Fighting Fire With Fire
by james525
Summary: The Tyranid hordes are perhaps the greatest threat the galaxy has ever faced. Each world they take is stripped of all resources, bolstering their armies whilst leaving no chance of recovery. One Inquisitor has seen their implacable force, and realised the only way to stop them is a dangerous, potentially heretical, gamble. Short chapters, weekly updates.
1. Chapter 1 - Mortan

The noise in the cabin grew considerably as the shuttle made contact with atmosphere, but Arkon did not notice. The Inquisitor was too focused for that now. Inquisitor – the title still sounded strange, 10 years on from his elevation. 10 years was a long time, and he had accomplished much, but at that moment he felt he had never felt so unprepared. So much rested on this mission, far too much. If the experiment was a success it could be the turning point. If it was a failure, it would almost certainly cost Arkon his life, and the lives of his crew. He looked around the cabin, gauging the readiness of his team, and was impressed by what he saw. They looked calm and collected, and most importantly they were unafraid.

On his left were the two Space Marines. Brother Mortan had his eyes closed, a look of serenity on his face. He was always like this before the battle. It would change. He had lost his squad and his home world to Hive Fleet Goliath, and hated the Tyranids with zealousness extreme even for a Space Marine. Arkon wondered briefly how many of the foul beasts had met their end in the purging fires of the Salamander's flamer. The tally must have been in the hundreds before Arkon had even met him, almost a decade ago…

It had been his first real step on the path to his destiny, his first mission as an Inquisitor. When the Ordo Xenos gave him the rank he had dedicated himself to stopping the Tyranids, and upon his elevation he immediately set out to Gorlan IV, a world already doomed to be devoured by Goliath. The hive fleet had just entered the galaxy from the void, and this was the first major world it attacked. There he witnessed the planet's final days, fighting alongside the Salamanders and Guardsmen trying to save as many as civilians as they could. Arkon had learnt much about the Tyranid's tactics there, and had gained the first member of his team. Mortan lost the last member of his squad on the final day of fighting, and had tried to sacrifice himself just to kill more of the enemy. His fate looked sealed as the last of the transports left him on the landing pad, surrounded by thousands of Tyranids, the last human on a doomed planet.

It was a daring "rescue" by Arkon that had saved him. The Inquisitor had fought at Mortan's side for more than a week, and the Salamander had not once rested. The Inquisitor's ship left with the final convoy, and Arkon had seen the lone green figure blasting gaunt after gaunt into ash and knew the man was too valuable to be allowed to die. He made his pilot – the same man was on the flight deck of this ship – go back and drop the umbilical airlock around the marine. The titanium column protected the Space Marine from the claws of his foe for long enough for Arkon to fill it with engine coolant. The toxic fumes would have killed a normal man, but they merely sedated Mortan. Arkon and his crew has then hauled the unconscious giant into the ship proper, and the made good their escape. When the Space Marine came to he realised that he would have made a mistake to throw his life away with no real purpose, and swore to protect the Inquisitor, to aid him against the Tyranids. Even so, Arkon knew the often the Marine wished he had been left to die on his world, alongside his battle-brothers. He also knew how uncomfortable the Salamander was with some of Arkon's ideas, including his current experiment, but the marine had taken an oath, and would never say anything. Especially as the Inquisitor was right.


	2. Chapter 2 - Brathus

Next to Mortan sat Brathus. The Dark Angel had joined the team only a few days ago, and this would be the first time Arkon would see him in combat. Hopefully, it would also be the first time Arkon heard him speak. So far the Dark Angel had been completely mute, simply nodding when given an order. This had worked fine back on the ship, but in combat good communication was key, and this mission depended on them finding combat. Ideally they were looking for a minimal skirmish, but with the Tyranids that was rarely an option. They would almost certainly need the medipack Brathus carried with him. He was no Apothecary, but according to his files he had received a substantial amount of training in battlefield medicine in the 250 years he had been a Space Marine. Certainly enough to make him the default choice for the team's medic, especially since Raynor had died…

It was there previous mission, a week and a half ago. They were on Charris Prime; the same hellhole of a hive planet that they were destined for now, trying to find a way to slow the Tyranid's advance. This was not an easy task. Ironically the only real thing stopping this invasion from lasting a mere handful of days was the fact that the planet had endured a failed uprising twenty years ago, and the paranoid bureaucracy still had a security force that number almost three billion, a corps that was extremely well trained and drilled. Still, the current number of troops was less than half the original force, and dropping more rapidly now than it had done at any point in the four weeks since Goliath first started raining spores down near the South Pole. Now, only six hive cities, all very northern, were still under Imperial control, and those just barely. They were all in ruins as their defenders were pushed further and further back. Most of the civilian population was either dead or gone, mostly dead, so the humans on Charris consisted almost exclusively of Guardsmen. When Arkon and his team – just himself, Kay, Mortan and Raynor – landed in the planetary capitol, Freedom, he was met by one of their commanders, General Lucian. This was the third time the Inquisitor had met Lucian, and he liked the man. Born and raised on this planet, he had worked his way up from Private, and had more battle experience than any Guard officer Arkon had met. He had over 400 confirmed kills to his name, and was now over 80% bionic. Apparently he still liked to be involved in the fighting as much as possible, though with the Tyranids this was a choice one rarely got another option for. Arkon was then led to the platoon of troops he was to be working with, who were of course already briefed and prepped, and then they headed out.

The mission was a simple scouting foray. Reports had come in from the western quarter of a new type of leader-beast, like a Tyrant but smaller and faster, seemingly to lead hormagaunts in the same way a Broodlord led Genestealers. The convoy started out completely mechanised, but soon there was too much debris for the Chimaeras to pass, so the platoon dismounted and carried on on foot. The only opposition they met were small scouting brood, and these were easily dealt with. All the corpses of the fallen, human and alien, were burnt to deny the swarm biomass.

Soon, the troops moved into the square where the new Tyranid has last been spotted. They fanned out, taking up defensive positions covering every major entrance to the square, ready for an ambush. Arkon moved to the centre, and took out a new device. Called a Synapse Scanner, it was specifically tuned to pick up on the psychic energy of Tyranid leader-beasts. He looked at the reading – no more than the usual background noise that always accompanied an invasion. The Inquisitor did a slow 360, and got the same results. He frowned, brought the device closer to his face, to check it, and in doing so pointed it up. Suddenly, he got a reading. A strong one. Then he noticed the shadow growing overhead. Looking up, he realised the cloud above him was not weather…

"INCOMING!" yelled one of the Guardsmen. The gargoyles were on them in seconds, borer beetles whizzing through the air. Above them circled six Drakes, winged warriors designed for leading lightning assaults. The Guardsmen were trying to mount a defence, but there were simply too many Tyranids. Arkon grabbed his Bolter and started shooting. He checked the rest of his squad. Raynor was in among the Guardsmen, trying to coordinate them against the Drakes. Mortan was out on the right flank, flaming gargoyles into dust. Kay was just ahead of him, where the fighting was thickest, twin swords flashing as she struck any Tyranid that got close enough, but she was mostly trying to protect troopers, using her incredible reactions to slice beetles from the air as they flew past. Arkon realised the situation was hopeless. "Fall Back!" he yelled, and the troops started to back off with well-disciplined precision. The survivors made it into a building that was more or less intact, about half of the 62 that had started the mission. Raynor was covering the last squad in, out on his own. As they made it he turned to run, but a Drake swooped in, and stabbed a single long talon through his back. He had time to yell as the tip came through his chest armour, and then he was gone, dragged off into the sky.

They were stuck in that building for half an hour before a flight of Long Sword fighters tore through the sky, blasting the gargoyles to pieces. The remainder fell back, allowing the surviving humans to escape back to base. Arkon and his two teammates climbed into their shuttle, ready to head back to the fleet. Kay was stood at the back on her own. She seemed fine, except her bottom lip was quivering almost imperceptibly. Arkon knew what was coming, and let out a sigh. The shuttle lifted off, and as her brain decided she was "safe" Kay dropped to her knees, covered her face with her hands and started to sob. This always happened when the team lost someone, but it was usually Raynor who comforted her. Mortan was a Space Marine, and Arkon was an Inquisitor, and her commanding officer. He put his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off angrily and ran off to find some privacy. Arkon sighed again…

A lot had happened since that day, including the arrival of the Dark Angel. Arkon looked at Brathus again. In the message he arrived with his company master had told Arkon that the Chapter was impressed by the Inquisitor's work, and wanted to ensure it continued at pace. This sound honest enough, but Arkon knew the Space Marines were too valuable a resource to be sent to bodyguard a stranger. Suspicion came easily to an Inquisitor, but Arkon did not need much to realise that Brathus had been sent to make sure he try anything to radical. Knowing how zealous the Dark Angels were, Arkon hoped fervently that he didn't do anything the Space Marine considered heretical.


	3. Chapter 3 - Kay

Merilius was not a pleasant world. It was close to its sun, and had a large percentage of water in its atmosphere. The result of this was the whole of the planet's one continent was covered in tropical forests. These were second only to Catachan for lethality, filled with giant predators, veracious insect swarms and carnivorous plants. The survey team that discovered it marked it as a death world and moved on, failing even to give it a name. Merilius, or GDE16573563 as it was known then, was ignored for several millennia, until, spurred on by the courage, the curiosity and the pure stubbornness of the human spirit, a group of settlers decided to make a home there. These were members of a new heretical religion that worshipped life itself. They viewed their new world as a way to immerse themselves in it, overlooking the obvious difficulty that would be involved in living in such a place. Naturally, the colony struggled, dependant on supplies from off world. Then a warp storm cut the planet off from the rest of humanity, and the Imperium forgot about Merilius, leaving its residents to die.

But they did not die.

Four thousand years later, at the beginning of the thirty-ninth millennium, a navigational error dumped a rogue trader ship back into real space in the wrong system. Charts indicated it was devoid of intelligent life, so the merchants were excited to see the lights of a single city. Thinking they had found a new alien race to trade with, they landed, and were surprised to find humans living in the low-tech tree town. These were the survivors of the original colony, and in four thousand years their numbers had not increased. The planet was simply too dangerous. The fact that they were alive at all was a down to the fact that something – maybe in their food, maybe in their water, maybe in their air – had boosted the mutability of their genes, meaning they evolved more between each generation. Coupled with the fact that only the very strongest had any chance of survival meant that the people of Merilius had been distilled towards perfection. They were still human - four millennia is not a long time even for accelerated evolution – but they were without exception strong, fast and agile to the point where many Imperial officials declared them mutants.

Incredibly, whilst surrounded by death, they still worshipped life. It has is believed that none of them has ever died of old age, or disease, as there are no harmful viruses on the planet. Also, with their natural grace and agility accidents are none existent, so almost all of them are killed by another denizen of the planet. In this way death really is simply part of life, and it had been theorised by some of humanity's great philosophical minds that it is this fact that has kept there belief strong. This love of life has made them more emotional than most, but on a planet where survival requires such dedication and cooperation that crime, war and poverty are forgotten ideas this is not a problem.

What was a problem, however, was when some of them tried to integrate themselves back into the Imperium. The majority of them simply said no, and have stayed on their planet. Aside from the occasional trader hoping to strike a bargain with a community that has no wealth, and the occasional hunter attempting, usually fatally, to bring down one of the planet's larger, toothier residents, no-one goes to Merilius. Merilians do leave, usually on trader ships, and it is these who suffer. They have a very distinct type of naivety, and have trouble comprehending one intelligent being wishing harm on another. They usually go insane trying to comprehend the barbarity and corruption of the Imperium. Those that do not often become murders, and being built for the kill they end up terrifying entire cities until enough law enforcement resources are put into bringing them down.

Kay had not reached that point when Arkon had met her. She had been off her world only a few days, but was already close to a break down. She was only seventeen, lithe and petite, and she had left simply because of a natural urge to travel. However, she had no plan, and had been spotted by a very unscrupulous character. He had recognised her natural grace and poise, and convinced her to work as a dancer in his bar. She was on stage when Arkon had walked in, tracing a Genestealer cult movement. He was alone aside from Raynor, the rest of his entourage too conspicuous for this sort of work. Her dance was nearly completed when one of the regulars decided he wanted a bit more of a physical performance. Kay pushed him off, but he pulled a gun not giving a second thought to slaying her for such a minor insult. Impossibly fast she lashed an instinctive kick at his chin, snapping his neck. Unfortunately this particular local had been best friends with the bar's owner. He pulled a shotgun from under the counter and drew a bead on Kay. She froze, knowing she was dead, but the shot never came. With a crackle Arkon's power sword took the barman's head off. This caused noticeable unrest amongst the crowd, so he made a break for it with Raynor, grabbing the dancer's arm as he passed and hauling her with them.

Back on his ship Arkon asked Kay to join him. He had recognised her ability, and wanted her to fight alongside him. At first she declined, unwilling to cause deliberate harm to another sentient being, but when she learnt what the Tyranids were she agreed. Since then Arkon learnt more about the two sides of her. In battle she is death incarnate, but whenever there is loss of human life, especially one of the team, she will be inconsolable, crying for day after day. She is not much better with other intelligent life, and has mourned the loss of Eldar, Tau and even Ork. Worse is when she has to fight them. She has still taken only one human life, but the time Arkon knew it was only a matter of time before she would have to choose between her beliefs and her team.

Arkon looked across at Kay. She had still not spoken to him, or anyone else, since Raynor's death. She met his gaze, and he held it for the briefest of moment before being forced to look away, guilt and sorrow gnawing at him. He reconsidered his earlier thoughts. With Raynor gone, the new uncertainty of the Dark Angel and Kay's unknown mental state, this mission was looking more and more foolish.


	4. Chapter 4 - Flint

There were five people in the cabin of the shuttle. The last of them was Flint. He was a member of one of the guard regiments on the planet, which was his home world. He was a scout, gifted with extreme stealth and cunning, and he knew the region of the planet they were headed for well. General Lucian had recommended him personally. The Inquisitor had asked him for data on the region for a mission, but Lucian had insisted he take a guide. Arkon had refused at first, as the cyborg had been talking about an entire squad of his best pathfinders, but when the officer had been argued down to a single man Arkon had given in, realising that he wasn't going to do any better. He still wasn't happy about it. They were heading for a region that Tyranids had overrun weeks ago, so it should not be too dangerous, but it was still one more life that hinged on the experiment succeeding.

Arkon didn't know if Flint was typical for a resident of Charris. The Inquisitor had got here too late to study the nuances of the population in a neutral environment. By the time he arrived they were behaving the same way he had seen on a dozen other worlds – worlds doomed to fall before the hive. In most wars people can kid themselves that they'll be ok, that all the bullets and bombs are meant for other people. With the Tyranids, however, the destruction and death is so absolute, so total, so implacable, that it cannot be denied. Everyone still on the planet knew how slim their odds of getting off it were. For the average soldier it was mystifying why they were still even there in the face of such obvious defeat. Officially the battle wasn't lost. Unofficially there were directives in place to do as much as possible to slow the hive to buy the rest of the galaxy time to prepare, and to study the enemy in action in order to learn any possible exploitable weakness.

Arkon had noticed that when faced with such utter destruction most people reacted in one of a few different ways. Some used it to fuel them, turning all their anger and hate and fear on the enemy. Some surrendered completely, becoming useless, requiring desperately scarce resources to be devoted to their upkeep. Many simply attempted to deny it, to go about life as normally as possible, all the while subconsciously showing how hopeless the situation was.

In Flint's case it seemed the man had decided to make the most of life while he could. Although they had only recently met, and despite their difference in rank, the guardsman had show no hesistation in engaging the Inquisitor in lively conversation, regailing Arkon with the many adventures he had been on, both combat and not, before the invasion and after it. His attitude lifted people around him, gave them a small boost in a terrible environment.

He had also proven himself well in training simulations, and his superior officers all spoke very highly of him, but Arkon still wished that he had actually seen the guardsman in combat before now. Still, he seemed to be talented and capable, and the Inquisitor had equipped him very well. He now wore the same a similar sort of field armour as Arkon. This was a suit of lightweight carbo-titanium panels, each of which contained a force field generator. This meant the suit gave protection equal to power armour whilst being light and easy to move in. He had also given Flint access to his own armoury, and the scout had chosen two silenced, compact bolt pistols to complement his hunting knife. He was currently checking these, making sure the actions were clean and the clips were full. The others had already checked there equipment. Brathus carried a bolter, Mortan his flamer, and Kay had a pair of short swords from her home world. At Arkon's insistence she also wore a bolt pistol on her waist, though she would rarely use it. She also wore no real armour, relying instead on her supernatural reactions to dodge talons, claws, and even projectiles. Arkon, for his part, was well equipped. He carried a bolter and his powersword. On his belt were several small but powerful melta bombs, which had proven effective against larger Tyranids.

The intercom crackled.  
"60 seconds sir." announced the pilot. This was it. Arkon noticed Flint's attention was fixed on the two containers at the other end of the cabin. That made sense. He was newest to the project, least familiar with it, still overwhelmed by the impossibility of it. But now it was go time the payload suddenly seemed more important even to those of them who had been there at the a word spoken, one after another the members of the team turned to look at the two coffin-like boxes, until they were all staring at them. They all knew how much rested on the contents.


	5. Chapter 5 - Vil and Vio

The boxes were each two metres long, a metre wide and a metre tall. They sat side by side, bolted to the floor of the cabin in front of the large exit ramp at the back of the shuttle. They contained Arkon's – maybe humanity's – answer to the unstoppable monster that was the Tyranid hive. Despite all his doubts, all his anxieties and fears, part of the Inquisitor knew that this would work. Arkon had studied this subject long and hard, from Kryptman's gamble to the lifeworks of the insane Magos Biologis Phemm. He had spent decades reading about counter-Tyranid tactics, hive fleet movements and the evolution of the enemy. All the data he had studied, every frontline report, every last stand codex, every dissected alien, had led him to one inescapable, undeniable conclusion. There was only one force in this galaxy powerful enough to have even the slightest chance of defeating the Tyranids…

The Tyranids themselves.

Inside the boxes lay two Hormagaunts, neatly contorted into impossibly small spaces as per the intelligent design of the hive mind that spawned them, both deep in the slumber of their stasis cells. The boxes were marked with the references they had been assigned when Arkon submitted them to the Imperial archives: AGR233764-12B-96VIL and AGR233764-12B-96VIO. From the last digits of these references the Inquisitor had taken their names: Vil and Vio. It was the humans of the team that needed them to have names, humans who enforced an identity on them, as without something to call them they could not be called. And calling them was the entire purpose of this mission.

It had been a long time coming though. These were not the first Tyranids Arkon had captured for this purpose, but none before them had been successfully enough converted to be field tested. It had taken Arkon's biologists nearly six months to get them to this point, six months the Inquisitor had used to battle against the Tyranids, try and find a less heretical way to stop them, but nothing had been discovered. The last half year had been a gruelling one. Goliath had always been aggressive and overconfident, and had finally pushed itself too hard, attacking several systems at once. In several places it had been beaten back, including the world of Fortuna. As the synapse web of the Tyranids had faltered and failed the smaller creatures had gone feral, all that was left to guide them were their instincts to stay together and to kill. Despite the Imperials victory they had found themselves left with a planet infested with packs of deadly hunters. Whilst they took a brutal toll in the civilian populace in this state they were easy prey for the Arkon's team. The Inquisitor had located a small brood of extremely strong, fast Hormagaunts and had killed all but two. These were taken into captivity, to be worked on, and hopefully turned into the first of many, the turning of the tide.

The work consisted of two main parts. Easiest was the psychological conditioning. Hormagaunts have small minds, but even out of synapse they recognise friend and foe. They had to be trained to not attack humans on sight. The harder part of their "turning" was the fitting of the device known as a synaptic inducer. This looked like a simple metallic collar worn around the creature's neck, but it was actually 70% below the creatures skin, in its neck and around its brain. The primary effect of this machine, when coupled with another that each of the team wore – a resonator, was to simulate being inside the synaptic field. Effectively the gaunts saw Arkon as a Hive Tyrant, and the rest of the squad as Tyranid Warriors. It also blocked out the actual synapse web of the swarm, so the Hormagaunts would not be swayed by it. Another of its functions was to "translate" what the humans said. This meant that the team could give them orders, and this was why it was crucial they were named.

Another purpose of the inducer was to keep the hormagaunts alive. To keep them as light and quick as possible they did not possess a digestive system. Instead they had high energy biological "batteries" on which they could survive far longer than their life expectancy, which, due to the fact that they existed only to fight and die for the swarm, was around three days. Any Hormagaunt that did survive the devouring of a planet could kept alive inside a hive ship, by being hooked up to the ship's veins whilst in hibernation, recharging its energy levels, ready for the next world. Some hive minds had chosen to break down any of its troops that survived the extermination of a planet, but Goliath conserved them, saving the energy needed to create a new Hormagaunt from one that had given itself to the digestion pools. The synaptic inducers contained a small replaceable nuclear generator and energy conversion system, increasing the beasts unsupported life from just over a week to more than two months. Even so, due to their lightning fast metabolism, these gaunts would only live for a couple of years, so whenever not needed they were put into stassis to try and prolong their existence.

The final purpose of the synaptic inducer was a dark one. If a Hormagaunt ever disregarded an order, ever looked like it about to turn on its new masters, merely speaking the correct word would trigger a mechanism which released a dozen of the most dangerous toxins known to man directly in the creature's bloodstream, killing it in nanoseconds. This was a necessary precaution, and there were five such mechanisms built into the inducer. No risk was being taken with the Inquisitor's control.

The creatures had survived the implantation of the inducers, and initial testing had been promising. They had been docile, allowing humans with and without resonators to walk among them. When given an order by someone with a resonator they had reacted instantly and flawlessly, even when doing so would cause them injury or death. All such threats were of course simulated. The beasts were far to valuable be made to commit suicide just to see of they would do it.

But work in the laboratory could only go so far. So now human and Tyranid were about to set foot on a planet as allies, ready to fight together for the first time ever. The shuttle touched down gently. The intercom beeped.  
"Landing complete sir. Scanners show no sign of enemy presence in the area. Shall revive the specimens?" said the pilot from the flight deck.  
Arkon took a deep breath before replying, desperately stalling, his mind racing through excuses not to do this, trying to find a reason to back out. Something deeper drove him on. He knew there could be no more delays. So much rested on this.

"Wake them up."


	6. Chapter 6 - The First Test

There was a loud mechanical clunk as the latches of the two stasis cells released, then a hiss of escaping refrigerant as the seals broke. The doors swung upwards, and the two hormagaunts uncurled themselves and rose up into an easy standing position, all six of their limbs supporting them. Arkon and the rest of the team turned their resonators from passive to active mode. As each new device came on line the gaunts turned to look, recognising the new commander.  
Arkon regarded the human members of the team. They were ready.

"Move out." The soldiers moved slickly out of the back of the shuttle, taking up positions covering various angles. Once they had given the all clear the Inquisitor issued the gaunts a command.  
"Vil, Vio," As he said their names the Tyranids did not turn to regard him, but each stood straighter, ready.  
"Out." It was a simple, one word order, but the synaptic inducers registered it and calculated his intent. Together the two gaunts hopped from the transport into the clearing.  
Arkon followed them, opening a comm channel to the shuttle as he did. He needed to find an area under the influnce of the hive mind, so the Hormagaunts could be tested. Fortunately the shuttle was equipped to detect such a test.  
"Lieutenant, do you have a target?"  
"Yes sir, almost directly south of us. Bearing 187, range 9 clicks. Hasn't moved since we picked it up, 20 minutes ago."  
"Strength?"  
"Only a 2.6. Looks to be either a small group of Warriors, or maybe a large Zoanthrope"  
"Very good Lieutenant. Keep tracking it and alert me to any changes."  
"Yes sir."  
It would be warriors almost certainly. Goliath did not have many Zoanthropes, and they were some distance from any battlefront where such creatures would be most usefully deployed. More likely a group of weak Warriors were overseeing the biomass conversion of this jungle. Not front line troops, minimal risk but still a valid test for his solution.  
"OK people, we have our heading. Standard spacing, Flint, you have point, Vil, Vio, on me."  
The scout slipped off into the forest as the rest of the team spread out, then moved off after him. Arkon gauged the gaunts. They were just in front of him, one off to the left, the other to the right. They had reacted perfectly to all of his instructions, and were making much easier work of this terrain than the humans were. Any obstacles, like the sort of thick bushes it would take the human several minutes to cut through, they simply leapt over. They could clear obstructions several metres tall, and were also fairly proficient climbers, digging their large claws into tree trunks, then bounding up again.

The group had moved several kilometres away from the shuttle, and were in a large clearing, when a high pitched keening noise filled the air. Mortan recognised it first.  
"Whistlers!" he hissed over the intercom.  
"Everyone down." Arkon ordered, and started looking for something to hide behind.  
"There." said Flint, running towards a fallen tree that, when alive, must have been over 500 metres tall. The team made a dash for it, just diving up against the trunk as several dozen dark shapes flashed overhead. Whistlers were Rippers, each about 1.5 metres long. They had large, leathery wings, a flesh hook for a tongue and a huge barb on the end of their tail. On the battlefield they were used by Goliath to catch bullets for larger, more important flying creatures, but away from the front line they could be used to patrol areas already controlled by the Tyranids. Their tiny brains were capable only of flying a given route, and attacking anything they found. They would use their flesh hooks to make their prey keep its head down, then fly over it, dropping down so the blade on their tail ripped through their target. Their name came from the sound they made as they flew, not a vocal call but the air being channelled through slits in their carapace.  
Arkon watched the flock reach the other end of the clearing, then wheel around in a long arc that brought them back towards the team.  
"Xenos re-engaging." That was a voice Arkon didn't recognise, mechanical almost to the point of sounding fully synthetic. After a second he realised it was Brathus. So the Dark Angel spoke after all.  
"Other side of the log!" the Inquisitor ordered, and started scrambling over the tree. As he cleared it he realised that the ground had built up on this side, and there was only half a metre of tree to hide behind. He drew his sword, lay on his back and waited. The swarm closed in again, and as a flesh hook speared the air above his head he brought the blade through an arc, and took the whistler's head off just above its wings. He heard Kay cry out a few metres from him, then, with a whoosh, the air was filled with fire. Mortan's flamer immolated many of the rippers, burning the delicate membranes of their wings and sending them crashing to the ground. A few made it through, but concentrated bolter fire brought most of them down. With just three left alive, Arkon called "Hold fire." as they wheeled around for a third pass.  
"Vil, Vio, Go." he ordered, and the hormagaunts sprang off to attack. They charged at the whistlers head to head, then leapt at them. Vil smashed directly into one, putting a talon through its head before landing on its body, crushing it. Vio lashed a kick through the eye of another, and then using it as a springboard to launch itself at the last target before it had even hit the ground. A quick sweep of its talon took the ripper's right wing off, and the creature crashed to the ground. Vio was on it in milliseconds, thrusting both long claws into its body then effortlessly ripping it in two in a shower of ichor. The human members of the team, except Brathus, started cheering. For the first time ever a Tyranid had killed another for humanity.

Kay had a deep but clean cut in her left shoulder. Brathus patched the wound up with suprising care, his delicate touch contradicting how his giant hands dwarfed the slim warrior's arm. Apart from that the team was more or less unscathed. A few small cuts in skin, and a few deep ones in power armour, were the only other results of the whistler's attack. Once Kay had tested her arm movement and declared herself fit to fight the group moved on.

They were close to the target, less than a kilometre, when the ground started to rumble.  
"Earthquake!" yelled Flint, but as the group struggle to keep their balance two large shapes burst from the earth directly below them, throwing them away from each other. The Raveners were on them in instantly, claws rending the air in near misses. One went for Brathus, Flint, Kay and Mortan, while the other closed on Arkon and the two hormagaunts. The four humans did well to keep their ambusher at bay, making sure not to get within talon range whilst they concentrated on shooting its weak points. It coiled its tail, then exploded forward towards Flint, but Kay stepped in front of him and caught a Talon on each of her swords. As it slashed at her she slid easily under the attack then neatly severed one of its clawed hands at the wrist before jumping back out of reach. Arkon was faring less well. Vio was already in a heap on the floor, having taken the brunt of the initial strike. Vil's attack had been more successful, leaving a deep cut in the raveners thorax, but even as the gaunt turned for another attack the larger Tyranid drove at Arkon. He managed to parry two stabs, being pushed back, but the third knocked him to the floor. He knocked away another talon thrust, then rolled to avoid a sweep of the Ravener's claws. He came up in a crouch, and was just able to parry another blow, but the impact knocked his blade from his hand. One last talon came in, too fast to dodge, but a shape put itself between him and the claw. Vio made no cry as the talon entered its eye, then raked along its body. Its leap carried the gaunt on, and it crashed into a bush and lay still. Vil took this opportunity, leaping onto the Ravener's back and stabbing at its head again and again, until the beast fell to the ground. Arkon retrieved his sword just in time to see a gout of flame push the other Ravener back. It screamed in anger, and Brathus emptied an entire bolter clip into the top of its mouth, turning most of its head into mush.

The team formed up, ready for more attackers, and Arkon checked on Vio. Incredibly, the gaunt was back on the feet it still had, using its long talons as emergency crutches to compensate for the loss of both its left legs. It was intensly calm, despite the massive amount of ichor gushing from the joints where its limbs should have been, and the gash on the side of its head. Thanks to the synaptic inducer it was feeling no pain, but it still wouldn't last long in its current state. Arkon didn't give a second thought to scrubbing the mission. The Inquisitor opened up a channel to the shuttle.  
"Lieutenant, get to our position now, and have the stasis cells ready."  
He didn't know if the gaunt could be saved. Pragmatically his concern for it was sound – it represented a huge investment. There was more to it than that though. Arkon didn't realise it, but he was already starting to treat the gaunts as more than the simple killing tools they had always been. The creature had sacrificed itself for him and he was damned if he was going to let it die.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Nature of the Beast

Vio survived, just. The team got it into its stasis cell before any of its major organs – several of which had suffered spectacular damage – gave up. The shuttle blasted up through the Tyranid picket line with the usual ease, and made a rendezvous with the corvette Arkon used as a base, the True Path.

After a few hours the Inquisitor's chief biologis reported in. The man was exhausted, dishevelled and drenched in sweat. He had stablised the gaunt and was confident he could repair the damage the Ravener had done to all its critical organs. As hard as that would be, he was completely at a loss as to what could be done about the Tyranid's missing limbs. He was just starting to go into detail when there was a cry from one of his assistants in the bay where Vio was being treated. Some equipment started screeching an alarm and the biologis swore and ran back inside. Arkon decided to leave him to it, knowing his presence was only adding pressure to the situation. He didn't envy the scientist one bit. Understanding of Tyranid biology was being improved at a rapid rate, but all that effort was being put into killing them, not keeping them alive. Arkon knew how much the biologis had invested in the gaunt. Not only did he understand the importance of the project, but he had lead all the work in converting the creature. On the plus side, that stood him as the best person in the galaxy to save it.

Arkon returned to his research, but after a couple of hours his stomach was growling in a manner that was not ignorable. The Inquisitor gave in, setting his work to one side and making his way down to the ship's mess. He always ate among the regulars, instead of with the officers in the wardroom. He had started his career in as a guardsman, and felt more at home there. None of the troops ever dared sit with him of course, so the only time he had company were those rare occasions when another high-ranking officer deigned to join him. Still, he enjoyed the noise and chaos the mess provided.

Even away from his desk his research was impossible to ignore, and he was deep in thought when there was a thud beside him as someone dropped ungraciously into the next spot on the bench. As he turned to acknowledge them Flint was already greeting him. "Afternoon chief."

Arkon was taken aback by the scout's familiarity, but his pleasure at the company eclipsed any ire he should have felt at the lack of protocol. "Flint. How are you?"

"Bit duffed up but surviving." The guardsman grinned. "You certainly know how to find trouble."

Arkon wasn't sure how to take that. "I assure you today was not supposed to be as... interesting... as it turned out."

"Don't sweat it. I love these secret little incursions. So much more rewarding than a campaign that boils down to retreat after retreat. In fact..." Flint leaned in close. "... I've put in a request to be transferred under your command permenantly."

Arkon nodded. He hadn't got Flint completely figured out, but the man's skills were undeniable. "I think that can be arrange."

"Good!" Flint smacked the Inquisitor on the shoulder. "I can't wait to really get involded with your... team." He lingered on that last word, turning his attention to a third person who was taking the place opposite him.

Kay gave them both a smile as she greeted them "Inquisitor. Flint." Arkon gave her a nod and a tight smile. He hadn't seen Kay in the mess since Raynor died. She had been her usual exceptional self on the mission, but back here he would have expected her to go back into her shell. Something had obviously changed.

Flint took a moment from stuffing his face to give her a more vocal greeting. "Hello gorgeous." He gestured to her bandaged shoulder with his fork. "How's the trophy scar?"

She paused a second while she tested its motion, gauging her progress in recovering. "Surprisingly solid. I think I got lucky with the hit. You're right though, definitely going to have a scar."

The guardsman shrugged. "I've got a few myself. And I bet the boss isn't exactly flawless, even with all his fancy armour."

Arkon shook his head wryfully. "No, I've certainly picked up a couple. Hazard of the job."

"Damn right." Flint re-centred his attention on Kay. "So don't you worry about it."

Kay gave a quiet laugh, and Arkon felt his spirits rise, less the prettiness of the sound and more what it signified. After the trauma of Raynor's death the old Kay was on her way back. "You think this'll be my first scar?" Kay rolled up her sleeve, showing a long mark that went from wrist to elbow. "Hormagaunt, ironically. And I have... a couple more."

Flint raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to show me them all some time."

The innuedo wasn't lost on the woman, and her mouth formed a little 'O' of surprise, before changing to a embarrased smile, but whilst it was meant for Flint she shot Arkon a quick glance. The Inquisitor remained impassive, but internally Flint's advance had rankled him. He could justify that. Kay was a part of his team, had a special type of naviety due to her background, and was worthy of his protection.

Before the atmosphere could get awkward she turned to Arkon. "How's Vio?"

"It'll survive." Arkon's tone carried little hope. "Beyond that we don't know."

"You sound like you care?!" Flint was surprised by Kay's compassion.

"Of course I care."

"But you hate those things." The guardsman screwed his face up. "We all do."

"No." Kay shook her head, then stopped suddenly. "I mean, yes. The hive fleets, the encroaching darkness, the irristable tide that's trying to drown the galaxy and all its life.-" she was getting worked up "-That is an unfront to all that's good and right and must be stopped."

She calmed "But Vil and Vio aren't part of that anymore. We've liberated them, now they've joined us to stand against the evil."

Flint shook his head. "But only because we're forcing them. Without all those technical doodads the Inquisitor here has bolted to them they'd kill us in a second."

Kay scoffed. "They could try."

"But my point is this:" Flint ignored her challenge. "They've not chosen to join us. They're soldiers – prisoners – from an army like any other. No different from Orks or Chaos. Their only goal is our complete and utter destruction."

"I disagree." Arkon said "I've studied these things. I know how they work. They're... a force of nature, more than anything. They're just following their programming, there's no ill intent." As he spoke he instinctively looked around, checking he wasn't being overheard, even in a place a safe as his own ship. His views on the enemy were usually considered controversial at best.

Their views were not sitting well with Flint. When he next spoke there was an edge in his voice. "You can't be justifying these things! After everything they've done."

"Arkon's right." Kay instinctive leaped to his defence, then stopped and delicately covered her mouth, her cheeks reddening with embarrasment of her unplanned over-familiarty with her superior officer. "I mean, the Inquisitor is right. He knows these things. And he's shown us the importance of staying rational."

Arkon nodded his agreement. "It's because they're so different. Against normal foes righteous anger is your greatest tool. But zeal and rage have no affect on an enemy that cannot begn to comprehend them." He leaned back in his seat. "Of course, that only applies up here, forming strategies. On the battle lines, get angry."

Flint wasn't buying his view, instead it was just earning more ire. The reason was quickly apparent. "I can't believe you'd give one slice of anything but hatred and damnation to these monsters. Noone who's seen them up close should. With all due respect Inquisitor you're just talking about your research. You haven't had to watch as they destroy everything you hold dear."

All of a sudden Arkon was back on the streets that fateful night, running from the screams. He blinked a couple of times, trying to force the memories from his mind. He had enough success to answer Flint's accusation. "Yes, I have."


	8. Chapter 8 - Close Calls

It was a couple of days before any of them spoke to each other. Kay spotted Flint in a corridor, and broke into a jog to catch up with him. "Hey! Wait up!"

He stopped and turned at the sound of her voice, giving her a look that suggested he wasn't sure how to feel about seeing her after the argument. After a second 'pleased' won out and he smiled. As she reached him they started walking together and he spoke, back to old jovial self. "How's things Beautiful?"

"Ok." She forced the conversation where she knew it needed to go. "Look, I'm sorry about the other day. We should have realised how risky a subject it was."

He shrugged dismissively. "It's in the past. Forget about it."

"I guess we're just all so used to to talking about them. Here it's sometimes hard to remember there's any thing else in the galaxy. But you're not alone." She glanced at the floor. " We've all lost so much to them."

He nodded sadly. "Even the Inquisitor. Did you know what he was talking about?"

She shook her head. "I've been on his team for nearly two years and that outburst was about as much as I've ever got out of him on his past. He's so secretive about it."

"Guess that comes with the territory." He looked at her. "So noone knows anything about him?"

"Someone might. I know he was in the guard, and there's a lot of pain." She sighed. "But he certainly won't share anything with me."

"I'm surprised." he stopped them as they reached a window, looking out onto the void. "Sweet, honest, loyal. I'd have thought you'd be the perfect one to share with." He gave her a warm smile.

She matched it. "You're sweet, Flint." She rested her head on his shoulder, standing on her toes to do so, balancing effortlessly. "Don't get a lot of that here. I'm glad you're with us."

The team spent most of the next week watching the alien invasion from the safety of space. Soon the only human presence on the planet was a few hundred thousand Imperial Guard, holed up in Freedom. The capitol was well defended, surrounded by a wall dozens of metres tall, bristling with anti-aircraft and –armour guns. Goliath probed the city a couple of times, then fell back to regain its strength. This gave the defenders time to regroup and rearm, ready for the coming storm. Arkon took the opportunity to head down to the city to see what could be done, keen to banish the helpless detached feeling that had become so familiar over the last few years.

They were in the command centre and just through security when the first alarm went off. As they entered the war room 30 seconds later the siren count was up over a dozen. Arkon glanced at the big holographic map in the centre of the room. The city was completely surrounded, what seemed like millions of Tyranids were approaching from every side. The swarm was staying together, moving slowly, calmly, purposefully, but they would be at the walls in minutes. Arkon made his way through the bustling crowd to General Lucian. The cyborg acknowledged him with a curt nod, but his words had a harsh tone Arkon was not used to receiving."I'm a little busy Inquisitor."

"I understand General, but I need to know how-"

"We don't know. We should have picked up a swarm this size a hundred miles out."

"Can we beat them?"

The officer turned to look at him, his face showing an imperial smugness it should have had no right to, given the situation. "We've had time to prepare. Perhaps you should go out to the walls, watch the show."

The nearest walls were just a kilometre away, and the team set off at a jog that would get them there a couple of minutes before the Tyranids. Artillery on both sides had already started firing, and there was the occasional explosion as a huge spore made it through the defenses and hit a building. They were half way down a narrow street when a living bomb the size of a bus hit the tower block next to them. The explosion was catastrophic, and they dived for cover as the building came down. As the dust started to settle, Mortan, Brathus and Flint found themselves the only ones standing amongst the ruins. Mortan spoke into his comm "Sir? Status?"

There was silence for several seconds, then the sound of coughing answered him. "We're OK. We're in a basement of some kind. I think I can see the way out."

The rubble allowed Arkon and Kay to climb out of cellar easily. They had been above it when the building fell, and its roof had collapsed with the impact. However, they now had hundreds of tons of concrete and steel between them and the rest of the team. "Mortan, head to the walls, see what Lucian is up to. We have to go around, we'll catch you up."

As the rest of the squad jogged off, Arkon and Kay doubled back, looking for a new way to the walls. They could hear small arms fire, which got more and more intense over the next few minutes. The Tyranids were at the walls.

They walking along a deserted main highway when something huge dropped out of the sky in front of them. The winged tyrant landed on a truck, which groaned and dented under the weight, and roared a challenge at them. The thing was huge, with a long, serpentine neck and large crest on its head. Poison dripped from its four long talons, the larger front pair of which sprouted from the back of huge clawed hands. Arkon fired a bolter salvo at it, but the bullets were stopped a metre in front of it by a crackling energy field. The monster leapt at the them with impossible speed, and the Inquisitor had to jump back to avoid being carved in half by a sweeping talon. Kay went on the attack, but she was no match for the tyrant. The young warrior blocked blows and dodged, and seemed to be doing well, but then she ducked a chop that the Tyranid reversed quickly, catching her in the chest with the top of its talon and knocking her to the floor. Arkon jumped in, but his blow was easily parried, and the tyrant countered with a thrust to his torso. His armour caught the tip of the claw, and he was thrown 10 metres down the road. Kay was struggling to her feet as the tyrant reached down and grabbed her arm in its huge hand. It lifted her off the ground, catching her free arm in its other hand, stopping her flailing. It brought the struggling Merilian close to its face and pulled its arms apart, testing her strength, all the while examining with cold impassiveness. Kay gave a quiet cry as her arms were wrenched and stretched. It would be no effort for the monster to flex just a little further, and casually rip the woman in half.

Arkon was not going to let that happen.

He took a couple of quick steps towards the beast, then, with a yell, hurled his power sword. It crackled briefly as it flew through the protective field, then dug deep in between the creature's ribs. The tyrant roared in anger and surprise, and dropped Kay, taking a step towards the Inquisitor. Arkon grabbed a melta bomb, his only remaining armament, and faced down the huge Tyranid, wondering what the hell he could do now. The monster roared again, and Arkon braced himself for another attack, but it never came. Instead the tyrant launched itself into the air, flying off towards the walls.

The Inquisitor ran to Kay, and helped her back to her feet.

"You OK?" he asked.

"Never better." She answered, winking at him. "Thanks for the save" Kay embraced him in a tight hug, and the sudden unexpected familiarity caused Arkon's cheeks to colour. She pulled away. "Why didn't it finish us?"

The Inquisitor shrugged. As they walked towards the walls he was intently aware that the beautiful young warrior was still watching him, but as to why they had survived, he really didn't know.

Mortan knew. He, Brathus and Flint had made it to the walls just before the Tyranids. The Salamander had not known fear in 200 years, but the sight that presented itself chilled him to the core. As far as he could see was a living mass of Tyranids. Millions of them, more than the defenders could ever hope to kill. As they came into range, a wall of lasfire greeted them. Thousands fell, but they were a drop in the ocean. Soon they were at the walls, attempting to climb up. The three team members added their fire to the guardsmen's, but it was hopeless. Bodies of gaunts started to pile up, and soon the enemy would be able to walk into the city on the corpses of its own. Worse was when the carifexi reached the walls. The living battering rams start smashing through, and as one breached just a few metres from the team Flint swore feelingly. He looked across at Mortan. "We're dead."

But this was the moment Lucian had been waiting for. With the first breach the Tyranids dropped all cautiousness and surged forwards, exposing a crucial weakness. He issued a single order on the comm. From the top of every building hundreds of snipers swung into position, drawing beads on assign synapse creatures and opening fire. The effect was incredible. All around the walls huge gaps opened up in the synapse net as the attacking aliens lost most of their commanders. At the same time flamer teams, who had stay silent until this point, created a wall of fire. Within seconds no Tyranid within a hundred metres of the walls were alive, and the survivors were panicking, forgetting about the attack.

Mortan ducked instinctively as a huge tyrant flew overhead from inside the city, trying desperately to regain control the remnants of the swarm, but it was too little too late. The remainder of the Tyranids fled back to the forest, and the defenders of the city of Freedom let out a huge cheer.

That night Arkon and the team stay planet side to join the celebrations. Goliath had retreated to lick its wounds, and the atmosphere in the city was jubilant. Arkon was in the bar of the hotel they were occupying. It was filled with over a hundred guardsmen, all drinking and laughing. Several carried trophies, the most impressive of which was the tooth from a Heirodule. It was longer than the arm of the sniper who carried it. A single lucky shot had gone through the monster's eye and into its brain, and with the synapse web failed Goliath could not command it, so it fell. The shooter had roughly carved "You make more, I'll kill more" onto it with his knife. Arkon smiled at that, and looked around for the team. Mortan was at a table, arm wrestling two burly soldiers at the same time. The giant looked less threatening out of his power armour, but he still won the competition easily, and celebrated by draining his pint, throwing the empty into a huge pile of broken glass and shouting for another. Flint was at another table with a female on each knee, telling stories of death and daring. Brathus had deemed not to join them, instead meditating in his room, and Kay… Kay had been at a table further back, but now she knocked back her drink and stood. She started moving purposefully towards him, with a gait that reminded the Inquisitor of a jungle cat stalking its prey.

Once she reached him she immediately started talking, leaning in close to be heard above the din. "I wanted to thank you again for today."

The Inquisitor smiled back. "Don't sweat it. You've saved my life a dozen times."

"Yeah, but this time…" Kay frowned "Arkon, I've never been so scared, so sure I was dead. That monster was so close, so calm, so implacable. This wasn't a momentary dodged bullet or claw. I had time to see what was happening. In that second I guess… oh I don't know."

"What? You can tell me." Arkon wasn't great at this, but he wanted to keep his team mentally strong, without reservations or stress. And after all she'd been through, he want kay to be happy.

"I…I just feel so close to you, you know?" Kay's smile returned "I want to make sure you know that."

She leant in close, her face mere centimetres from his, so his nose was filled with her sweet perfume, and the smell of alcohol on her breath. Time stood still. He knew what she wanted, and realised it was what he wanted to but, he just couldn't. He pulled back.

She blinked once, a confused look on her face. "But, you…" her voiced trailed off, and confusion was replaced by anger. "Fine. See you in the morning, Inquisitor."

She spun around and stormed out of the room. Arkon watched her leave, swore under his breath, and ordered something strong from the bar.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Silent War

The next morning Arkon met with General Lucian. The officer was looking extremely pleased with himself. "Inquisitor, good morning. I take it you enjoyed last night's festivities?"

Arkon gave him a tight lipped smile. "I did." he lied. "Your troops certainly know how to celebrate a victory – and quite a victory it was. You must be very pleased."  
The cyborg's grin grew further. "I am, and things have got even better. Segmentum HQ sent a supply convoy to us just after the Tyranids attacked. It had to drop out of the warp when it reached the edge of The Shadow, and has been travelling through real-space since. We received a transmission this morning. It will arrive in the next few hours."  
"Emperor be praised." Arkon's smile was now genuine "You have a plan for breaking the blockade?"  
"Actually I do." Lucian raised an eyebrow "Tell me Inquisitor, how well armed is you ship?"

Arkon was the first to arrive at the shuttle, and didn't have long to wait before he was surprised by the second member of the team there. Flint sauntered over to him, leaving no doubt to his good mood with exuberant, if off-key, whistling. The guardsman stayed true to form by showing no hesitation in engaging in conversation with his superior officer. "How are you boss?" Considering what the man had drunk last night he had no right to be so chipper.  
"Not as good as you, apparently. Glad you enjoyed your night."  
"Awww, mate." Flint looked away, his grin growing as he remembered specific details. "Those two girls..."  
The Inquisitor shook his head ruefully. "I have to give you credit Flint. You know how to live."  
"Right here, right now, making the most of life is easy. It's holding back I don't get." His tone didn't change, but he fixed Arkon with look that belied how much he believed what he was saying. "You managed that ok though."  
He must have spotted what happened with Kay last night. Arkon wanted to put him back in his place, remind him of the vast difference in their ranks, but for some reason he found himself indulging the guardsman. "That would have been a terrible idea. I did the right thing."  
"If you say so boss." Flint checked around, making sure they were still alone. "Look, I dunno what's going on with you two, but you're a good man, and she's a great girl. There's obviously something going on there, but you're confused enough by it without having to worry about me swooping in and stealin' her from under your nose."  
Arkon sighed, bewildered by the whole situation. It sounded like the guardsman was genuinely trying to help but the Inquisitor just wanted to ignore the whole thing. "Great. Thanks Flint."  
"No worries boss." After the brief moment of candour Flint returned to normal. "Besides it's not like I don't have the ladies queueing up. Elena - the brunette from last night - she let me-"  
Arkon laughed in spite of himself, holding up a hand to stop his friend mid sentence. "Please Flint, spare the details."

The ride back to the Path was not the awkward one Arkon had been expecting. Kay simply ignored him, spending the entire trip talking, laughing and joking with Flint. When she wasn't looking the guardsman exchanged a brief look of understanding with Arkon. The Inquisitor didn't mind the solitude, using the time to mentally run through the plan to get the convoy safely to the planet. Not that he could really do anything – his captain, Malvarion, would be giving the orders.  
It was a simple enough idea. The Path would form up with the two escorts of the incoming convoy, punch a hole in the Tyranid blockade, then draw as many alien ships away as they could, allowing the supply ships to slip through. Then they would make a break for open space, where the Tyranids wouldn't follow…hopefully. The convoy was fairly large, but there were four ships that really mattered. Two were empty personnel transports, that could be used to evacuate the majority of the remaining guardsmen when the world fell. The other two were promethium tankers, each carrying trillions of gallons of the flamer fuel that was probably the single most important item for keeping the Tyranids at bay.  
The shuttle returned safely to the True Path, which rendezvoused with the convoy on schedule. Unable to take an active roll the team made their way to bridge to watch the oncoming fighting. Everything started well. The three warships hammered a sector of the blockade, destroying two smaller outriggers and catching the attention of a half dozen enemy leviathans. With the Tyrandis in persuit the Imperials raced solar north, drawing the hive ships with them and creating a gap in the enemy picket line. The convoy began its run for the planet, but the gap closed up faster than expected. Several ships towards the rear were caught by Tyranid vessels, which stabbed large armoured proboscises through their armour, out of which poured Genestealer kill-teams that swept through the ships like mercury, quickly slaughtering the crews and allowing the high grade materials used for weapons and supplies to be absorbed by the swarm. A huge Kraken grappled one of the fuel tankers, being careful not to puncture the metre-thick armour of the tanks. The Genestealers were aboard in seconds, managing the massacre the bridge crew before they could even activate the self-destruct. It looked like the high-energy fuel was destined to fall into the Tyranid's claws when one engineer, in a true act of heroism, overrode the fail-safes opened a small access pipe to one of the main tanks, and then, as an ocean of promethium roared towards him, lit his welding torch. The resulting explosion could be felt on most of the northern hemisphere of Charris. For several minutes the planet gained another sun, and in space the results were incredible. Dozens of Tyranid ships, as well as the human ones yet to enter the atmosphere, were destroyed in the maelstrom of fire. The three warships were caught on the edge of the blast, one escort being torn apart by the force. The Path and the remaining frigate limped away from the planet, to the safety of the void. Although the loss of life had been high, and just half of the convoy had made it to the city, the unexpected impact on the enemy qualified it as a success in Arkon's eyes. It had also given him an idea…


	10. Chapter 10 - Biomass Denial

Kay leapt from the shuttle's ramp, landed in a roll, and came up on one knee, bolt pistol scanning the edge of the jungle for targets. A quick signal with her free hand gave the all clear, and the rest of the team responded in kind. The area was secure. They could release the hormagaunts. At Arkon's command the two Tyranids bounded easily into the centre of the group, looking around their new environment, instinctively scanning for threats. Then, in near silence, the group moved into the jungle, towards their target. Vio kept pace easily, it's new 'enhancements' working perfectly. Arkon's biologis team had created a custom set of bionics to replace what the Ravener had removed. The left side of its head contained a bulky robot eye with a large green lens that was a stark contrast to the natural red of its right. It also had replacements for the two lower limbs on that side of its body. There was always a drop in performance with the installation of bionics, but despite the singular nature of the experimental units tests indicated Vio was functioning at over 98%.

Their mission was a simple one. They had waited for Goliath to regain its strength, and launch another probing attack on Freedom. With the hive fleet's efforts focused in the north the conquered southern hemisphere was less well defended. Arkon had identified an isolated capillary tower and digestion pool at its base. They would infiltrate the site and a drop a large thermo-nuclear explosive device into it. This would then but carried up into one of the hive ships, where it would detonate. If the Inquisitor's mathematician had done his sums right, the bomb's yield would be high enough to combust the high energy "soup" being sucked up the tower and stored in the hive ship, causing an explosion similar to the one that had occurred when the promethium tanker had been destroyed, and hopefully doing a similar amount of damage. Unfortunately, simple rarely meant easy.

Now they were groundside, Kay was fully focused on the mission. In the shuttle it was harder. She had been in her usual seat, and had spent the time talking to Flint, checking her equipment, and, when she was sure he wasn't looking, stealing a glance at Arkon. It had been a mistake, letting him know how she felt, but it was always going to happen. She had had feelings for the Inquisitor since the night she met him, when he saved her life in that grimy dive bar, but after the fight with the Tyrant she could no longer keep those feelings hidden. Still, at least now she knew he didn't feel the same way. She had always suspected the Inquisitor thought she was just a dumb kid, and now she had her confirmation. Flint had been invaluable over the last few weeks, filling the gap Raynor's death had created, giving her a real friend, someone who wasn't an emotionless Inquisitor or Space Marine. He wasn't simply the cocky, womanising jackass he seemed. That was part of his character - a part that being in the Guard had nurtured well – but underneath it he was also kind, and protective.

The team reached the site of the digestion pool and took positions on the edge of the jungle, the border south of which nothing native lived. Beyond it was a huge wasteland of barren rock, in which stood the capillary tower, climbing up into space. The area was mostly deserted, except around the pools, where thousands of rippers and other harvesting creatures moved, some giving themselves to the biomass, but most simply vomiting up a load then going off for another. Each pool was watched over by a brood of Warriors. These were not frontline fighters, but weaker versions. They were oddities for another reason – they were one of the few breeds employed by Goliath that were armed with ranged weaponry. As well as long talons, they carried Devourers.

They made easy progress over the first couple of kilometres. The only opposition they encountered were rippers which were easily dispatched, and as the harvesters were operating out of synapse range Goliath was not alerted to their presence. They got a quite alert from their synapse scanners when they entered the warrior's control range, and things got trickier from there.

They were within four hundred metres of their target pool, using a low ridge as cover, when Flint stop suddenly. A single ripper was watching them from the top of the ridge. It made no move to protect itself as Flint dropped it with a single bolt pistol round, but by then it was too late. Goliath was aware of them, and from the other side of the ridge they could here the sound of a thousand bodies slithering in their direction. Kay braced herself for battle, and Arkon issued a single, calm order. "Charge."

The team ran over the top of hill, straight into a tide of rippers. Mortan took the lead, using his flamer to burn out a path, and the rest of the team tucked in close behind him, striking and shooting Tyranids to either side. Kay ducked as a volley of fleshworms flew overhead. The Warriors were off to their right, away from the pool. The team ducked behind a rocky outcrop, the last vestige of cover between them and the pool still over 200 metres distant. They were keeping the rippers at bay, the hormagaunts racking up huge numbers of kills. Vio was showing no signs that its bionics was causing it any difficulty, easily slaying any ripper that entered a wide arching kill zone in front of it. Like the rest of the team though, it was pinned down, and they couldn't hold out forever. Another shower of worms flew in, bouncing off Brathus' armour, failing to find a weak point in which to burrow. The next time they might not be so lucky.

Kay knew what she had to do. She vaulted their cover, vaugely aware of Flint's dismayed cry as she went. She emptied her bolt pistol's clip into the rippers in front of her, and, using the safe ground for a run-up, leapt towards the Warriors. She landed well short of them, but here the rippers were thinner on the ground, and she darted through them, supernatural agility keeping her from the lunges of their snapping jaws. As soon as she was in range she leapt at the nearest Warrior. It thrust a talon at her, but she parried easily with one sword and swept the other round, taking the creature's head clean off. She kicked off the corpse's torso, landing between the two surviving leaders. Ducking one attack she caught another on a blade, then pushed the talon away and took a step back.

All the rage and grief of losing Raynor, of being rejected by Arkon, of seeing thousands upon thousands of humans butchered took her, and she found herself fighting beyond even her own exemplary skills. She dropped low, sweeping out a sword, and took one Warrior's leg off at the ankle. The beast fell, and before it could recover she was on it, stabbing a dozen frenzied times, tearing it to pieces. The last leader came at her, slashing down, but she side-stepped easily, and chopped off a talon. The Tyranid screamed, swiping across, but she parried and knocked the creature off balance, cutting its devourer in half. She started to revel in the carnage, jamming a blade up into the socket of its one remaining good arm, then took a step back. The Warrior, knowing only to fight, threw itself forwards, trying to bite, but she dodged and plunged her other sword into the back of its neck. It collapsed in a heap. She stopped, breathless, exhilarated, and looked over at the others, just in time to see Mortan pitch the bomb into the digestion pool, then she grabbed her swords and ran for the extraction point. The others did likewise and the rippers, now uncoordinated, could not stop them.

Back in the shuttle Kay started to calm down. Before she had always fought with a cool detachment, but this time had been different. Her rage had given her strength.

"You shouldn't have run off like that."

She looked at Flint and shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Had to deal with those Warriors."

The guardsman opened his mouth to speak then stopped, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to argue the point further.

She turned her attention to the cockpit where the pilot was addressing the Inquisitor. "Sir, we have a message from General Lucian. Goliath's attack was no probe."

"Does he have the situation under control?" Arkon looked worried.

"No sir." The pilot shook his head. "He doubts Freedom can be saved this time."

The Inquisitor swore under his breath. "Take us to the city, now."


	11. Chapter 11 - The End of the World

The shuttle roared low over the city of Freedom, and the team got a look at how the battle was going. Things were as bad as Arkon had ever seen themin all his time fighting the Tyranids. The city's walls, previously seeming so tall and impenetrable, were now not so much breached as demolished. Over them had rushed a solid mass of Tyranids, a living tide of black and white that filled the streets and swept away defenders wherever it found them. In the southern districts it was little more than a rout, such was a ferocity of the attack. Those surviving guardsmen were running for the fortress in the city centre, but the aliens were outpacing them, and more and more were being caught and slaughtered.

As the shuttle closed on one tall building the windows of the top floor flashed with lasfire. Immediately after a half dozen figures appeared on the roof. No sooner had they cleared the stairwell than hormagaunts started pouring through it. The creatures were greeted by a well disciplined and brutally effective volley of fire. Despite there numbers most fell, but two made it through and leapt at the soldiers. One died quickly with a knife in its head, but the other managed to decapitate a trooper before it died. The soldiers had done well to survive this far, but they were surrounded, isolated, and doomed. Arkon pointed over the shoulder of the pilot, at the survivors. In the midst of all this carnage, here was a situation where he could make a difference. "We can grab them. And for the Emperor's sake, lock down the stasis cells. We don't need them to see the experiment."

The shuttle dropped down next to the building, hovering so the stormtroopers could jump up its boarding ramp. They needed no encouragement or instruction to do so, the last of them clearing the roof as another brood of hormagaunts burst into view. The shuttle pulled away as the Tyrandis started launching themselves at it, banging off the hull and plumetting to the streets below.

As they resumed their course toward the command centre Arkon turned to the passenger compartment to investigate the people they had saved. There were four stormtroopers and two civilians, one of which, a boy no older than 15, clutched a lasgun close to him. One of the troopers, apparently their leader despite a lack of rank, gave the Inquisitor a salute. "Emperor be praised. We thought we were done for."

"Your sergeant?" Arkon asked.

She shook her head. "Dead Sir. Us too, if not for you and your team."

Things looked no less grim as the neared the fortress. Most of the retreating troops had been funnelled onto one of the major roads, and already the stragglers were being picked off by bounding hormagaunts. Arkon did some mental calculations and worked out that the Tyranids would easily catch the rest before they reached the relative safety of the fortress. He was desperately trying to think of a way to save them when several Hellhounds and Leman Russes turned round, deliberately jamming themselves together to form a solid wall between the aliens and the humans. They opened up on the Tyranids with everything they had, and for a brief moment stopped the onrushing horde. That moment was fleeting, and despite taking massive casualties the tide forced forwards, eventually reaching the wall of tanks and rending it apart. The tank's sacrifice was not in vain, and they bought enough time for the Guardsmen to escape.

The shuttle landed in the courtyard of the fortress, and the team stepped off into pure chaos. Whilst everyone on the south side of the city that had not made it too the walls was dead, on the north side the withdrawal had been composed. The result of this meant that their were still thousands of Guardsmen out there, unaware that they were about to be cut off from the only way off the planet. Squads and tanks were moving about, mostly towards the north gate, trying to keep it safe for as long as possible. Every now and then a Chimera would roar through the gate, screech to a stop long enough for a squad to disembark, then hurtle off into the city to rescue more troopers. In the centre of the compound sat the two huge troop transports from the convoy that had landed a few days ago. One was already loaded with the injured and non-combatants, and was lifting off as General Lucian's voice came over the loud speaker system. "We have three platoons coming from the north. They are all that is left of humanity outside these walls. They will be here in less than ten minutes. They WILL make it through those gates. Those alien bastards may take the our home today, but I for one am going to make them pay for it so dearly that they'll wish they'd never even heard of Charris Prime!"

A cheer went up around the walls. A minute later the general stepped out of his command centre, bolter in hand, surrounded by his elite bodyguard. Arkon jogged over to him. "Will they make it?"

The cyborg fixed the Inquisitor's gaze with his one good eye. "With a little luck." He gestured to the guardsmen at the gate. "They have fight in them yet."

The guardsmen on the southern wall started firing. The Tyranids had arrived. Almost immediately there was a series of crashing noises, then the southern gate burst inwards, its frame outlining a huge carnifex. The beast was immediately hit with a dozen heavy weapon shots, more than Arkon had ever seen anything survive, but when the smoke cleared it was still standing. It moved forwards, gaunts pouring past it, still being hit with heavy fire, until a missile slammed into its neck and exploded, tearing its head clean off and bringing it down. A huge shadow covered the corpse, then a winged tyrant dropped down into the courtyard, metres from the team. The hilt of a familiar power sword glinted between its ribs. That sword was Arkon's, this Tyrant was the same beast he and Kay had faced down a couple of weeks ago. Before any of them could react it slashed a talon at the closest member, Flint, catching in the torso. The blow sliced straight through his armour and threw him across the courtyard like a rag doll. The Tyrant took a step towards the rest of the team and roared a challenge. The final battle of Charris had begun.


	12. Chapter 12 - Departures

The tyrant launched itself into an attack, striking out at multiple targets simultaneously. One of its talons stabbed into Mortan's shoulder, shattering the armour and tearing into his arm. Another slashed at Arkon but he spun and pushed it aside with his blade. He completed the move inside the monster's reach, within easy striking distance of its ribs, but it struck him with the top of one of its smaller, middle limbs. He was sent flying, landing hard on his back. Dazed, he looked around and saw Flint struggling to get to his feet. The armour on the guardsman's torso was gone, and the gaping wound it revealled made Arkon wonder how Flint was even conscious, let alone standing up. The scout started limping towards the team, insanely planning on rejoining the fight with the tyrant, and Arkon shook his head.  
"GET ON THE SHIP!" he yelled at the guardsman. Flint looked over at him, but continued his slow progress towards the fighting until he was grabbed by two members of a squad falling back and dragged onto the transport.

The Inquisitor took a second to check how the fight was going. Things weren't as bad as they could have been. The initial push into the compound had been beaten back, and now the only aliens alive within the walls were the tyrant and a few gaunts that were trapped in one corner and were being slaughtered by a squad at safe range. The walls were lined with guardsmen, all firing down, and the two gates being reinforced with more troops. The fighting was intense at the south gate, but at the north gate it was easier, and as Arkon watched the first of the platoons they were waiting for ran through, exhausted and out of ammunition, and made a run for the transport ship. The Inquisitor's shuttle was full of injured guardsmen, and he could see the pilot watching him nervously. He opened a comm channel.  
"Lieutenant, go. We'll get out on the transport." The man was clearly unhappy, but he wouldn't question orders, and the whine of the shuttle's engines filled the air.

Arkon turned his attention back to the team and their fight with the tyrant. In the couple of seconds since he had been hit Mortan had rejoined the fight. The spacemarines were not armed for close combat, and he a Brathus were mostly dodging attacks and firing bursts of bullets and flame at the beast. Kay was doing much better, somehow using technique to match an opponent that had her inconceivably beaten on strength and size. Lucian was also doing well against the creature, parrying its attack with his sword. Dark ichor dripped from the blade, and the tyrant sported several deep cuts. Two of Lucian's bodyguard were lying in crumpled heaps, and then another was caught by a talon's sweep to the waist. He collapsed in two pieces. The remaining guard had a deep cut in his leg, and was simply blocking any attacks that came his way.

They couldn't keep it up though. The tyrant had already taken nearly half of them out of the fight, and would soon pick off the survivors one by one. There were enough guardsmen within the compound to beat it, but even as he thought to summon aid there was a unified cry from the south gate as another Tyranid push broke through. They were on there own.

Arkon knew what he had to do. The remaining transport was close, and wouldn't be here long. It would probably make it clear– no doubt the pilot would take no risks and abandon however he had to when the Tyranids got close. The planet was lost, but his experiments had been successful, and now he had a strong base from which to push forward his work. If he was right getting himself killed here would put the entire galaxy at risk. His team had known what they signed up for. He knew what he had to do. He picked up his sword, and with a deep, consigned breath, started to run.

Kay ducked as the tyrant struck at her again, feeling the air move as the talon passed above her. That had been too close. Any minute now the monster would catch her, and that would be it. Still she found herself pleased she was keeping the tyrant's attention, keeping her friends alive. The pleasure was short lived as a rapid sequence of attacks forced her back and she tripped, crashing to the ground. As the tyrant loomed over her she was vaguely aware of Mortan throwing his now empty flamer at the beast, trying to distract it long enough for her to recover, but it was to late. A talon speared towards her and she braced herself for the end.

Something metallic flashed before her face and knocked the claw just enough for it to miss her. Arkon didn't break the pace of his run as he passed her and closed to striking range. Remembering how the tyrant had hit him before the Inquisitor dropped, his run becoming a slide as a secondary talon flashed overhead. Coming back up to his feet he slashed at the creature's ribcage and was rewarded with a roar of anger when the blade bit deep, drawing more ichor. He kept running, ducking a swing of its tail, then spun, ready for the next attack. The team reasembled at his sides. He knew what needed to be done.  
"Mortan, the north gate. Brathus, the south. Keep them clear."  
"Kerrin, go to the south gate. Start preparations for a fighting withdrawal." Lucian's last bodyguard moved off, as did the spacemarines. They were wasted in this fight and would do better against the masses of gaunts, but this left just three people to fight the tyrant. Arkon brought up his sword as Lucian and Kay stood on either side, ready to face the beast.

"How's Flint?" Kay asked as the monster turned towards them.  
"Not good." Arkon replied. Kay let out an animal snarl, then threw herself at the tyrant. The Tyranid caught her arm in one giant clawed hand, but had to throw her away as Arkon and Lucian attacked. The young warrior turned her fall into an easy back flip, landing on her feet a dozen metres away. Meanwhile, the Inquisitor and the general were struggling with the tyrant. They managed to block a series of blows between them, but the tyrant swept out with all four of its talons, knocking them both to the ground. It took a step forward to strike the killing blows, but Kay jumped at it from the side. She used one of its arms as a spring board to leap at its neck. She threw one of her swords at its throat, causing another deep cut, then used her newly free hand to grab the creature's head crest, slashing at its neck. The Tyranid bucked fiercely, trying to grab her, but she held on and slashed again. The tyrant's thrashing became more frenzied, but with a yell Kay cut a third time. The blow smashed through the Tyranid's armour and severed its spine, and the tyrant dropped to the ground, dead.

Kay jumped casually from the corpse and strode up to Arkon. "What's next?" He would have assumed she was joking were it not for the pure conviction in her tone. Right then, there, she could have beaten anything.

But that wouldn't be enough. The gate defenders had been doing a sterling job holding back the gaunts, but the expendable Tyranids had been nothing more than a screen for the real threat. At both gates broods of genestealers reached the fight, and the effect was devastating. In moments the defenders were mostly gone and the Tyranids were pouring into the compound. Lucian sounded the retreat, and the entire remaining population of Charris began an orderly fall back towards the transport. As they got to the entry ramps the Tyranids became more concentrated and easier to hold off. The ship's thick armour withstood the battering of multiple carnifi, and once the survivors were aboard the transport lifted off.

As they made it to the safety of space Arkon checked on his team. Brathus and Mortan had both made it, though Mortan had a large wound to his shoulder. Kay was fine, so the Inquisitor went looking for Flint. He found the guardsman on the floor of a corridor with a medic desperately trying to stem the blood loss from the massive gash on his chest.  
"We lost then?" Flint's voice was little more than a croak.  
Arkon nodded "This time."  
Flint chuckled, then coughed. "We lose to them every time." He gave the Inquisitor a piercing stare. "You can change that." Then, suddenly, his head lolled to one side.  
"He's gone." said the medic, then rushed off to help other wounded. Arkon heard a sob behind him, and turned just in time to see Kay disappear round a corner.

He found the warrior a few hours later, sobbing in a tiny storage room. He put his hand on her shoulder, even though he fully expected her to shrug him off and run away, but Kay grabbed him in a tight hug. For several minutes he just held her. When she finally eased her grip on him she looked up, and Arkon was suddenly aware of both the intimacy of their situation and that even with red-rimmed eyes she was still breathtakingly beautiful. He thought back to the night he had rejected her advances and realised what a mistake it had been. Flint, in what he had said, how he had lived, how he had died, had taught him an important lesson. Their lives were too short. Even if she was his subordinate, even after what they had just been through, he knew he had to tell her how he felt. He was working out exactly what to say when she spoke.  
"Arkon…" Her voice trailed off, sensing he wanted to say something, but he was content for her to continue. In this terrible situation he had found some peace. She took a deep breath.  
"I'm leaving."

The office was deep underground, the only sound dripping water until the door slid open on its hydraulics. An aid made his way across to the desk and handed his data file to the dark-armoured figure sitting at it.  
"Report from the brother following the Converter, master."  
The man, his features hidden beneath the hood of his white robe, scanned through its summary before he answered.  
"So, the Converter's first experiment was a complete success. He makes fast progress, perhaps too fast. He will have to be slowed…or stopped completely."  
"It is doubtful he will listen to sense, sir." The aid said, "He is an Inquisitor after all."  
The man frowned. "There are other ways of stopping him. Have the nearest team briefed on him and his compatriots. I want them ready soon. The heretic's plan does have the possibility of being of use to us, but if we cannot control him then he leaves us with few choices."

END OF ACT ONE


End file.
